Whirlwind by Bailey Bradford (reading the story of the .txt) 📕

Conner swung and Gideon’s entire head reverberated with the pain of the impact. Conner’s fist connected with his jaw, and Gideon saw stars, heard bells, thought his skull might have been knocked right out of his skin.

He went tumbling all over shoulders. Someone grabbed him by an ear—which was almost as bad as being hit again. Then he was hit again and Gideon’s world went black.

* * * *

Jordan was really, really hoping Gideon wasn’t dead-dead, as in gone on to whatever or wherever spirits went when they left Earth behind. He didn’t know if they left some kind of ghostly husk behind or what, and that had been a hard blow Gideon had taken. There were things that needed to be said between them, and Stefan—Jordan couldn’t just let him go.

Gideon hadn’t even raised a fist to protect himself against Conner’s wrath. Jordan wasn’t sure he could let anyone beat him, even if he deserved it. Wallowing in his own self-pity for days might have cost him everything. Yes, he deserved to get his ass kicked.

Conner didn’t wait for him to get up. Jordan was slammed into the ground with a punch that likely would have killed him had he been alive in the first place. Jesus, Conner’s pissed.

He was grabbed again, pulled from the dirt and rocks and grass. Conner drew back to hit him again and froze, cocking his head.

“Shit!” Conner exclaimed. He tossed Jordan aside. “Stefan needs help!” And in an instant, Conner and Ro both disappeared.

“Stefan,” Gideon rasped and Jordan shook his head. Gideon hefted him close. “Where’s Stefan? He’s in trouble.”

Jordan didn’t know, but he feared that he and Gideon both were going to be in for another round with Conner. “He said he was going somewhere to get fucked.” Or to fuck. Jordan’s bell was still ringing and he couldn’t seem to get his mouth to shape the words without slurring them.

“How do we find him then?” Gideon said, his voice heavy with frustration. “Where is Stefan? He might need our help and I need to be there with Stefan—” And Gideon was gone.

Was that it? Jordan’s heartbeat skipped as he replayed Stefan’s earlier words and Gideon’s. Did he just need to think about where Stefan and Gideon were? Or Stefan, because if Gideon did go somewhere else, would Jordan be split in two if he thought of following them both?

He shivered at the very idea of that. His head was pounding, his entire face ached, and he couldn’t concentrate. Jordan closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Judging by Conner’s anger, he’d already failed Stefan once, at least. He’d hurt that innocent man—and despite any sexual experience Stefan might have had when he’d been alive, he was still innocent. It showed in his touch, in his expressive eyes.

Jordan bowed his head. Stefan had been so hurt, so angry. It had surprised him, because they hadn’t known Stefan long, and Jordan had convinced himself the connection he’d felt with Stefan had been one-sided. He’d been wrong, hadn’t he?

Where was Stefan? Jordan concentrated around the throbbing in his temples. The sounds of the night seemed to grow louder, crickets, cicadas and the occasional passing vehicle trying to disrupt his attempt at focusing.

Knowing Stefan might be in danger stiffened Jordan’s resolve. He pictured Stefan, the way he felt, the sounds he made, let the longing to hold the man flow through him.

There was a whoosh of air and darkness so complete it seeped through Jordan’s closed lids. Then there was a cacophony of sound, and someone hit Jordan on the other side of his jaw.

Jordan roared with pain and opened his eyes as he went on the attack. He caught sight of the shitty bar they were in, of the dozen or more spirits embroiled in a massive fight. Conner’s bellow was followed by one man rocketing past Jordan. Another followed shortly thereafter.

Jordan started swinging.

Chapter Ten

He might have made a mistake. Stefan could admit that much. And fighting wasn’t as much fun once you took a few punches. Still, he was kind of stuck. He couldn’t concentrate long enough to get away because people kept trying to hurt him.

Yeah, he’d really screwed up. He couldn’t be killed, but he was going to be hurt so badly that he’d probably wish he’d die. There was definitely evil intent in more than one man’s eyes.

Stefan screamed and kicked, he hit and bit, anything to keep them from pinning him down. Desperate, he yelled for Conner, hoping to be saved, and God, how he hated that he needed to be saved.

What was wrong with him? All he’d wanted was to get laid, to get past his past and to forget about the two men who’d hurt him almost as badly as Johnny had hurt him. The intense, instant connection he’d felt for Gideon and Jordan was obviously unrequited. Stefan wasn’t going to keep agonizing over it.

Conner came through the place like a whirling dervish, hitting and slinging Stefan’s attackers. Ro was right behind him, but as soon as one spirit went flying, two more seemed to appear.

Stefan thought it was like some minions from hell, except he didn’t believe in hell so he had to assume there were just a lot of evil assholes hanging around the club. And he’d led his friends right to them. “Shit.”

Punching and clawing got him closer to Conner. Ro was back to back with his man. Stefan was grabbed from behind and flung backwards, a kick catching him in the ribs. He howled with pain and saw red, so furious at himself, at the bastards who wouldn’t leave him and his friends alone, at Gideon and Jordan for not wanting him.

Stefan went wild, tearing through the place, a whirlwind of betrayal and rejection. Years of repressed emotions spilled out of him, splattering his anger on his opponents via his fists.

It built up and spewed over, a volcanic eruption of hate he’d carried since he’d